


Join the Colours

by Deccaboo



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Family Issues, Gen, Symbiotic Relationship, Trill - Freeform, Trills, USS Minerva
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deccaboo/pseuds/Deccaboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elma Jalal has a heavy weight on her young shoulders. As a half-human, the main focus of Trill society - the desire to be chosen as a host for a precious symbiont - is forbidden to her and her Trill grandfather constantly weighs her up against her legendary Joined ancestor, Varoza Joun, resentful that his only grandchild will never be Trill-enough to be Joined. Where can a person with two cultures go to begin to heal the rift within themselves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Join the Colours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cosmic_llin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_llin/gifts).



Elma Jalal had grown up with the tales of Varoza Joun. Her grandparents' home in the southern hemisphere of the planet Trill was practically a shrine to Joun. Her wise violet-blue eyes beamed down from portraits and holographs as if to say _“I am your goal. I achieved everything that you didn't or won't or can't. I am a conduit from the past to the present to the future... and you are a full stop.”_

Elma used to dart past the portraits very quickly. As the daughter of a human ambassador and a Trill xenolinguist the hallowed fate of Varoza Joun would never, ever be hers.

Elma was a disappointing descendant, at least from the perspective of her Trill relatives. She was a dead-end. No possibility for Joining, and certainly none for her children – even if she had children with a Trill who had children with Trill, there would always be the human blot. The ancestral stain that would mark them as 'other', not worthy. Only if there were no other Trill anywhere and a precious symbiont was about to pay the ultimate price would the idea of her becoming a host be entertained.

Elma spent winters at her grandfather's knee listening to Varoza Joun stories. Joun had once been an ambassador to the Ferengi, had purchased and then liberated a group of Orion slaves, taken a Romulan defector as a lover, got kicked out of a Vulcan religious retreat for standing up to Vulcan racism towards the Romulan, (who by then was Joun's spouse,) before becoming the much loved and respected governor of Hoobishan state on Trill, finally retiring with her Trill husband and Romulan wife at the grand age of 86.

Varoza Joun, or at least the Varoza host, had died 85 years ago. As 'reassociation' was taboo verging on illegal, keeping in touch with the lovers, spouses, children, grandchildren of past hosts was strictly forbidden. The Joun symbiont had had no contact whatsoever with the Vanka family for 85 years, but the weight of Varoza Joun still bore down on them heavily. There was immense pride in their Joined ancestor, but terrible pressure to produce another host too. Elma's mother had put paid to that when she chose a human as a husband.

Elma's father was a Federation diplomat, and as school was drawing to a close and her classmates were preparing for symbiosis autumn camps and anxiously awaiting their grades, Elma found herself spending more and more time at the embassy compound, sat with a PADD beneath a gnarled rotana tree and a flask of icoberry juice – one perk of being half-human was that the potent icoberries didn't cause the mild but annoying allergic reaction that made her classmates' spots itch.

Elma watched Federation representatives and Starfleet officers mingle together, no species bias, no castes, no exclusions based on ethnicity or gender or religion, and indulged herself in her favourite daydream. She was Commander... no Captain... no _Admiral_ Jalal, with fifty years of service under her belt. She was respected, professional. A career carved from of being Elma Jalal instead of being a disappointing great-great-great-granddaughter of Varoza Joun.

“I thought I might find you here,” her father said, his steady, deep voice and distinctive accent calming and familiar as always. “Hiding again?” 

“Not hiding, exactly,” Elma replied. “I just needed some space and fresh air.”

Ambassador Jalal al-Reza al-Siddig smiled at his daughter, pointing towards the main building. “I can go, if you still need some space?”

“No, _Baba_ , it's fine.” Elma gave a weak smile and turned off her PADD. 

Jalal settled down beside her in a graceful cross-legged position, folding his sherwani coat carefully to avoid creasing it. “Sometimes I wonder if we should have lived on another planet,” he said in his calm, measured way. “Grandchildren should never think badly of their grandparents, but I think it might have been easier on you if we hadn't lived here so close to them.”

Elma looked at him in surprise. “I thought you loved Trill?”

“I do love Trill,” Jalal smiled. “I've loved Trill ever since I set foot here. Loving Trill is not the same as loving your mother's family.”

Elma leaned forward, chin on her hand. Her father had never been this frank with her before. When they spoke plainly together they spoke Arabic, even Elma's mother. Hoobishan-dialect Trill was for everyday use, but Arabic, albeit with heavy Hoobishani influences, was for their family of three.

“Your grandfather and I have had our disagreements, as you know,” Everyone knew. There was no love lost between Jalal and his father-in-law, Sredin Vanka. “I disagree entirely that the Vanka family have had no relatives of distinction since Varoza Joun. Your mother is the most amazing person I have ever met – there aren't many Trill who would learn Arabic when there are Universal Translators – and you are a gift to the universe, Elma.”

“I want to join Starfleet,” Elma blurted out. “I don't want to stay here, I can't.” She leaned into her father's dependable shoulder. “If I put some distance between me and Trill, maybe I can learn to love it the way everyone else does.”

Jalal kissed his daughter's dark hair. “Whatever you choose is fine with us, you know? We would be just as proud to see you at your passing out parade as graduating from university here, or whatever you wanted to do.”

“I know you will be proud of me, and _Oskyanoi*_ , too, ” Elma answered, “I know that _Sredinzhoi_ won't.”

“Probably not,” admitted Jalal, “but if you're holding out for his approval you will be waiting for a long time and while you're waiting you'll miss out on living your own life.” It was a crisp autumn day, warm in the sun but growing cooler in the shade of the rotana tree. “Come - let's go for dinner.” Jalal got to his feet, smoothing his sherwani. “Your mother gets home in a few days. Don't make any solid decisions until you get a chance to speak to her.”

“Alright,” Elma said quietly, putting her PADD and flask of icoberry juice into her canvas bag. “I've thought about joining Starfleet for a while.”

“I wouldn't dream of trying to talk you out of it – and neither would your mother,” Jalal put an arm around his daughter's shoulders. “And I know that _Jaddah_ and your _amma_ Leila would be thrilled to see more of you if you go to one of the campuses on Earth.”

Elma gave a small smile, convinced that if she wasn't good enough a grandchild for Sredin, she probably wasn't a good enough grandchild for her human relatives either.

***

The Lahore campus of Starfleet Academy was beautiful. It was impossible not to love it from day one.

Elma felt at home straight away exploring the old city – Paris of the East, the City of Colleges, the Pearl of the Punjab. The modern Starfleet buildings complemented the existing architecture and protected buildings of cultural significance, and each orientation day focused on a different part of the city. It was like the university cities Elma was used to on Trill where the institution and the city were intertwined, each influencing the other.

Elma ate her first crisp qeema samosa on her first day, after watching a street vendor make it fresh from his stand on Birdwood Road. The crisp pastry and the spiced, juicy mutton reminding her she was so very far away from Trill and the usual bland street snack of syto bean paste in a cone of galzak bread. She savoured each bite of the samosa, enjoying the sensation of the spices on her tongue and deciding then and there to find out how to make them herself.

Her aunt Leila's house was a short transport away in Khartoum, Sudan, and after a shy start Elma found reasons to transport over for dinner every evening, getting to know her father's family. Her grandmother Noor got out the holograph albums on the first evening and they all stayed up late pointing out who was who, and unearthing lots of pictures of Elma's father as a baby. Aunt Leila determinedly said Elma had inherited great-grandmother Aziza's eyes and definitely had the family nose. Her Trill spots were greatly admired and several younger cousins asked if they could have some as well. After years of being a disappointing relation in a small family on Trill, it was a little strange for Elma to be welcomed into this large, bustling, boisterous family after being away for her whole life.

At the end of the first week Aunt Leila demanded a picture be taken of all the cousins surrounding their _Jaddah_ , and Elma was sandwiched in between a beaming grandmother Noor and Elma's oldest cousin Fadil, with cousins of various ages and heights crammed around them. Aunt Leila gave Elma the first copy of the holograph, and promptly sent another copy to her brother and sister-in-law on Trill.

As classes began and Elma eagerly booked in for extra-credit Basic Flight and Navigation sessions, she still found time to visit _Jaddah_ and Aunt Leila and call her parents once a week. Sredin remained silent whenever she tried to call, but Elma remembered her father's advice and resolved to enjoy her life while she had things in her life to be enjoying.

Basic Flight and Navigation took place in the second month of her placement at Starfleet Academy Lahore. Tuesday afternoon Elma eagerly put on her flight suit and practically skipped over to the training centre and shuttle hangar to join the other eager cadets, all buzzing with the excitement of their first hint at being at the conn of a warp vessel.

The flight lieutenant in a command uniform appeared and the cadets snapped to attention. The lieutenant was tall, commanding, with both hands on her hips and a confident smile that radiated like a wide-beam phaser. Everyone in the front row, Elma included, was stunned. 

The lieutenant directed the cadets towards the shuttlecraft they would be using, explaining that on this first flight they would be observing her and were required to make notes. The cadets formed an orderly line to board the craft and the flight lieutenant welcomed each cadet aboard.

Elma was so nervous thinking of something professional to say that she'd missed the lieutenant's name completely and found herself stammering a little when faced with the lieutenant's dazzling smile and wide blue eyes. The lieutenant took Elma's shaking hand in her startlingly cold ones and the shaking ceased. “Steady hands, cadet.”

“Yes, sir.” Elma breathed deeply.

“It's nice to meet another Trill, usually the heat scares 'em off. Lahore suits me down to the ground though - can't stand rain,” the lieutenant said, filling the gap Elma was leaving open, and for the first time Elma realised she was holding the cool hands of a tall, spotted, dark-haired, blue-eyed full-blooded Trill. “Cadet ...?”

“Er...Cadet Jalal, sir. Elma Jalal,” she sucked in another breath. Time to drop the shoe. “And I'm half-human.”

“Well aren't you lucky, cadet,” the lieutenant replied with the kind of honest gaze Elma had come to expect from other Trill. “Two beautiful planets belong to you. I haven't seen the violet seas in a very long time, but the blue oceans of Earth are just as beautiful. And there's nothing can I say about the beautiful Lahore campus that you won't discover for yourself in time.”

The lieutenant released Elma's hand and waved her on to the shuttle, turning to welcome the next cadet, “Welcome aboard! I'm Lieutenant Ayda Joun.”

**Author's Note:**

> *Hoobishan-Trill dialect – no words for 'mother' or 'father', instead you combine a parent or grandparent's first name with the parental suffix 'noi' or grandparental suffix 'zhoi'.
> 
> Amma/Ama - Arabic, 'paternal aunt'
> 
> Baba - Arabic, 'father'
> 
> Jaddah- Arabic, 'grandmother'


End file.
